Author: Chauni

 

RP Session: Phoenix

 

Notes:  Written after the first intimate encounter between Tizra and Phoenix.

 

Fade Out


I woke up forty-three heartbeats ago. Not mine, but his. I can feel them pounding into my back, languid and lazy as it pumps slumbering blood through petite veins. I want to kiss his inner elbow, want to taste the thing that makes him breathe, that gives him life, animates and gives him passion.

He took me for the first time three hours and twenty-six minutes ago, a gift I was more than happy to bestow. Jeremy’s gone for the evening, clubbing probably. I don’t know when he will be tip-toeing through the doorway, careful not to wake me like he is every night, but I hope he doesn’t peek in my room. I would much rather tell him myself, maybe over dinner tomorrow.

Dinner, dinner, maybe a nice baked chicken with scalloped potatoes and waxed beans. I hope he would be up for that. Of course, I’m sure Tizra will be gone by then; I’m sure he has much more important things to do than to be spending a happy-home-day with his lover.

Lover.

I am someone’s lover!

Even to me, it sounds foreign, unbelievable in the fragile way the words form in my mind, accompanying thought and heart laden with his flesh. He shifts, arm tightening around my midsection, tugging my naked body against his own tighter, tighter, until his pulse mingles down deep into my spinal chord and shifts down my nervous system. I could feel him in my head. Rhythmic. Beautiful. Hypnotic.

I wish I could turn. I wish his eyes were open and staring at me like suffocating sunsets, would let me drown in their fire-water-burn depths. I wish I could hear him whisper my name one more time, just another two syllables, smooth as silk as they drop like blood from velvet lips…

I want to write in my journal, empty all these bee-thoughts from my head before my brain is stung down into oblivion, but I can’t shake the arm from my side. Even in sleep, he refuses to let me go, give me release, and there is a comfort, a padded wall in such thoughts. His protectiveness is serene, somber, loving. But that doesn’t change my desire to scribble until my muscles tire and snap.

Keys are jingling in the doorway, and I hold my breath. It’s Jeremy; it has to be, considering no one else would have keys to the house. He’s fighting with the lock; I can hear the exasperated curse under his breath through the wall. I wonder if he’s had a few too many to drink, wonder if I should make him a cup of coffee, if I should sit and talk to him about why…

Oh, right. I can’t, not with Tizra here, holding me, clinging to me.

My eyes attach to the back of the closed bedroom door, white paint slightly illuminated by mercury moonlight caresses. Jeremy’s over there. I’m in here. With Tizra.

Why… do I feel guilty?

Tizra is shifting, pulling me down, yanking me under, and Jeremy is stalking towards his room by the apocalyptic footsteps. I can’t hear anything anymore but the sound of even breath, hot and steamy and still thick with a layer of lust that was building during sleep. He had mentioned repeating our antics tomorrow…but… did he really mean it?

An entire day devoted to exploring and loving, to lips and tongues and fingers and… other. I wish the sun was spilling through the slats of my blinds right now, wish I could feel it’s flame devouring me just as his mouth did a few hours ago.

I give up counting the heartbeats. It’s been twenty minutes now, and Jeremy’s in bed. The house settles once he crawls into it, as if sighing with relief that everyone is home and nestled tight right where they were supposed to be. Sometimes, I swear I can feel the house breathing around me, feeling, thinking, as if it was vital and alive in all of my personal doings.

Twenty-three minutes. I close my eyes, warm life against my back. The heartbeats are pulling me under, down to dark waters, to sweet oblivion, and I give up my fight to swim and simply…

Fall back and drown….

 

 

The End